


Stars

by tIna_is_gae



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Canon Universe, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Extended Metaphors, Gay, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Sad, Stanley Uris Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22646551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tIna_is_gae/pseuds/tIna_is_gae
Summary: When you look up at the sky during the day, you can't see them. But they're there. A million stars, all twinkling for you.Or, Eddie and Richie miss each other before being called to Derry, without knowing it. When they get to Derry, they find the thing they've been missing.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 18





	1. Invisible Gold

Richie didn't know what was wrong. He had everything he could've ever hoped for. A successful career, a nice car, and a beautiful home. But something felt off, like a memory he couldn't quite recall. He was incomplete. He pondered it further… what could it be? Was he forgetting a friend's birthday? Could that be it?  
No, it couldn't be. This wasn't a forgotten birthday type situation. This was something big, and he knew it. There was something he needed, he just had no idea what it was.  
His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp gale of cold air. He shivered in his windbreaker. He looked around, drawing his eyes from the patch of grass he'd been staring at intensely while thinking. He remembered he was in a park, sitting on a bench. He saw kids playing with a frisbee, struggling against the wind. There were seven, one wearing a fanny pack. Richie smiled. He had known someone who'd worn a fanny pack, right? He wasn't sure. Richie met lots of people. Knowing if one of them wore a fanny pack would be impossible. _That's just the life of showbiz, baby, _he thought, laughing to himself. Eventually everyone became a blur and you couldn't recall whether they stuttered or had a lisp.  
Richie pondered on it for a little while longer before standing up. Maybe a walk would clear his head. Besides, he had more important things to worry about, like his show tomorrow. His stomach fluttered. Richie had done a million shows, but they always made him nervous. Why shouldn't he be? Thousands of people were coming to see _him. _Comedy was an instinct, being gawked and heckled at by an audience was not. Richie recalled when he used to perform in dingy bars. There would almost always be a drunk guy in the back laughing his ass off. Richie would smile. That guy was having the time of his life and would wake up the next morning not remembering a second of it. He wondered if that was what he was missing.  
The time of his life.  
Richie walked a bit further, enjoying the outside despite how cold and windy it was. There was not a cloud in sight, and the sky was a bright blazing blue. Richie knew that there were stars up there somewhere, but he just couldn't see them. It was interesting to think that a bunch of giant balls of fire looked just like tiny pinpricks of light to him. Now, he couldn't even find them. Richie remembered how the stars looked at night. He remembered laying on the grass with _someone, _looking up and smiling. He was just a kid then, barely thirteen, but he felt so grown up. He was wise beyond his years, even if he didn't show it. His overlook on life had changed drastically in the past few days, but because of _what _he couldn't recall. Still, the memory gave him a sense of solace between his troubled thoughts. Richie reminded himself to look up at the stars tonight before he went to bed. He wanted to feel that memory again. Maybe it would help him to recall what he was missing.  
Richie made his way back to his car, still trying to remember what he was missing. The locked memory of a person. A person he loved. But not just one. _People. _People he loved. Richie felt tears form in his eyes. How could he love someone he couldn't even remember? Did they remember him, whoever they were? Why was he suddenly overcome with nostalgia he couldn't even fully recount? It felt like a dream. A good dream, one he wanted to hold on to, but it was slowly slipping away and by the time he had a pen and paper, he could only remember the general plot. Richie knew there was a boy. A boy he was friends with, a boy he loved. A boy he was _in _love with. He remembered feeling wrong, hating himself for loving someone he wasn't supposed to. He remembered hiding it from the others, and from the boy. Nobody could know  
_your dirty little secret. _  
Richie nearly swerved off the road as the thought hit him like a freight train. Thankfully he was near his house now, and not on the highway. He pulled into his driveway, gasping for air. He felt like he'd run ten miles. Richie turned off his car and sat in his driveway, resting his head on the steering wheel. He could feel a headache beginning to form.  
Richie felt like crying.  
_Why _was he thinking about _that _?  
He saw teardrops spill on to the lenses of his glasses, which he took off and rubbed with his shirt. He placed them on his lap and held his head in his hands, silently sobbing.  
_God, _he thought, _look at me. A forty-something year old man crying in his car. Glad my manager isn't here, he'd book me a one-way ticket to Existential Island and tell me to take a breather. _Richie laughed to himself. He wiped his face on the cuff of his sleeve and put his glasses back on. He got out of his car and went inside, grabbing a bottle of aspirin to ease the now-throbbing headache. He downed two pills and turned on the TV, rereading his routine for tomorrow.______________________

_____________________Eddie felt a shudder as the bone in his arm twinged. The thing hadn't hurt much since he broke it 27 years ago, and he was afraid it was gonna give him shit again. He rubbed the spot where it had snapped when he was a kid, relieving some of the pressure. He'd have to see the doctor if it kept bothering him.  
Eddie remembered the cast he had worn. He remembered Greta Bowie scrawling the word "LOSER" in big capital letters while looking him in the eye. He remembered his face falling when he realized she was not being kind by signing his cast. He went home after getting his medication, figuring out ways he could fix it.  
Eddie couldn't remember what he wrote to fix it. Was it "POSER"? No, that was still an insult. "WISER" maybe, but that didn't feel quite right. Maybe it was  
_LOVER _  
The word rang clear as a bell in Eddie's head and he could feel his teeth clamp down on his tongue. He dropped his pen on the stack of paperwork and leaned back in his chair. That's right. It was "LOVER". But why? Wouldn't have something like "LASER" been more interesting?  
_See the stars tonight, Ed's? Aren't they beautiful? _  
Who had said that? It was a kid's voice. Someone he knew very well. Someone he loved. A boy.  
But that was ridiculous. Eddie had never been in love with a boy, right? He was married to a woman, for Christ's sake!  
Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.  
He remembered a boy. He didn't know who, but he remembered looking up at the stars. He remembered feeling warm and safe for the first time in his life.  
_I haven't looked at the stars in a long time. _he thought. _  
Suddenly, his phone buzzed. Eddie checked the caller ID and recognized Myra's name. He sighed before picking up the phone.  
"Eddie Bear! It's your loving wife, Myra! Why didn't you call at 3?"  
Eddie thumped himself on the head for forgetting.  
"Sorry, My-my, I guess I got caught up in paperwork and forgot."  
He heard Myra's concerned whimpering on the other end.  
"That's okay, Bear. I just wanted to remind you that you need to pick up your prescription from the pharmacy, okay?"  
Eddie sighed, rubbing his face.  
"Okay, honey. I love you."  
"I love you too, Eddie-Weddie!"  
Myra made kissing sounds into the phone as Eddie hung up, exhausted.  
Eddie had never had Gym as a kid, so he didn't know what it felt like when the other kids had to do their track tests, but he imagined it felt a lot like he did now. Tired, sick, and just wanting to collapse on the floor. Eddie always got like this when Myra called. He didn't know why, but it had happened since they started dating. He hated himself for feeling it. Myra was _good _for him, he shouldn't be out of sorts when she called to check up on him. She was just worried, a lot-  
_They're gazebos, _  
Eddie jerked back in his chair. _Woah. _Where had that come from? What the hell did it mean? Eddie could feel a memory trying to resurface, struggling against the strong current of his mind. He felt it paddle, thought he finally had it, then realized with despair it was sinking under the waves. He collected a deep breath while sucking on his aspirator, leaning backwards with his face towards the ceiling. He shook his aspirator, and heard the last few drops of medication slosh around inside. Myra was right. He _did _need to get his prescription.________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________Richie stood on the porch, hands braced on the railing. He had not been back here in a long time, and he realized how much he was missing. The yard looked like a celestial garden at night, flowers illuminated in the moonlight. Lightning bugs flashed here and there, and he could hear the croak of some insect he could not place. He looked up at the moon, which was round and bold in the night sky. It was so bright he could see the craters on its surface. Richie's eyes trailed to the deep blue sky, which was littered with blinking satellites, skyscrapers, and planes. He scanned it for a few real stars. He couldn't see many, thanks to the heavily polluted Beverly Hills air, but he saw a cluster of seven in the north. One of them was brighter than all the others. It seemed to beam at him.  
_The North Star, _Richie thought, smiling back at it. His smile faltered. He felt alone. The big, beautiful stars were millions of miles away and didn't even know he existed. They burned day and night, unaware that on a little blue planet a certain Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier was admiring them from afar. They had no idea the nostalgia he felt, and the frustration on not being able to recount specific details. They didn't know any of that stuff.  
Richie gripped the porch railing a little tighter, tears forming in his eyes. He felt so _alone, _so scared. And the worst part was, he didn't even know why. He had a faint idea, sure, but it wasn't enough to fix his problem.  
Richie suddenly became very aware of how tired he was. All this thinking was wearing out his mind. He figured he should go to bed, get some sleep before his show tomorrow. He took one last look at the stars before going back inside._____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________________Eddie stood at the counter of the pharmacy, awaiting his numerous bags of medication. He took in the familiar white tile floor, blank white walls, and smooth white ceiling. He shuddered. Despite being in a pharmacy for a good fraction of his life, they still reminded him of a mental facility, like Juniper Hill back home. He had heard a great deal of horror stories about the people who lived there from his mother.  
_"Those people are batshit crazy, Eddie," _Sonia had explained to her young son. _"Their families call them in and men in white coats drag them to the facility. They're locked in a room that's all white, and they never get to see the light of day." _  
That part had scared Eddie the most. Not being able to see the sky? The stars? Eddie loved the stars, and figured he'd go even more crazy not being able to see them if he ended up in Juniper Hill.  
Obviously, years later, Eddie had learned that there were, in fact, windows in Juniper Hill. Sonia's stories had been quite the exaggeration, but they still left a mark on Eddie. He sometimes imagined what it would be like if he could never see the stars again. Admire the way they shined, trace paths between them and try to identify constellations.  
Eddie realized that he hadn't looked at the stars in a while. In fact, since he had married Myra, he was always too preoccupied to take time for himself and admire the stars. Eddie nearly started crying. He _loved _the stars, how could he have ignored them all this time? He felt like he had let them down, though he knew that was absurd. Still, he couldn't distract himself from his disappointment. He turned his head to look out the glass storefront. It was dark outside. After he got his medication, he could admire the stars on the way back to his car. Maybe he could just stop and stay a while. Or, he could drive up north and get a good look where there wasn't as much air pollution. That sounded nice. Away from Myra, away from the pharmacy, away from every fear that had ever held him back. Just him and the stars.  
But Eddie knew he couldn't do that. He wasn't strong enough. So for now, he just stood on the pharmacy's parking lot, leaning on his car, admiring the few stars he could see. There were seven, one shimmering rhythmically, as if it were laughing at him. But not in a mean way, laughing as if Eddie had said or done something funny.  
Laughing _with _him.  
_I miss you. _Eddie thought, without really knowing why.___________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________________End Chapter 1_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	2. The Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you look up at the sky during the day, you can't see them. But there's a million stars, all twinkling for you.  
> Or, Eddie and Richie miss each other before being called to Derry, without knowing it. When they get to Derry, they find the thing they've been missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning; Attempted suicide, blood.

Eddie danced around the grassy field, feeling the wind ruffle through his hair. He laughed. He had not felt this free in…. _forever _  
He couldn't see a thing, but it didn't matter. For one in his life, he was _here, _really here. Sonia's warnings could not hold him down, because this was a place of love and bliss. This was  
"Richie!" Eddie shrieked, still laughing, now 2 feet off the ground with Richie's skinny arms around his torso. A cool breeze ruffled through the dead tree leaves, making a peaceful rattling sound. Richie laughed, eyes squeezed shut by the force of his smile. Bev watched them, grinning, as she set out a blanket. Ben, Stan and Mike set out three others, and Bill came behind, lugging the tote bag of food. Richie set Eddie down, who lost his balance and collapsed onto the ground. He kept laughing as he pulled Richie by the arm next to him. The two proceeded to tackle one another lightly, one careful not to hurt the other, and vice versa. The other five Losers watched with amusement, glad that they at least weren't bickering like an old married couple. Mike and Stan were already on one blanket, a bird book laying discarded in Stan's lap. Bill had set the bag on another blanket to weigh it down against the wind, and was in the process of unpacking all the food, which included Twinkies, brownies, Ho-Ho's, and other sugary snacks none of their parents would've approved of. He had to collect them in secret.  
Bev got on her knees and helped Bill unpack the other things in the bag, which were pillows and more blankets. She spied a knowing glance at Richie and Eddie.  
"So this is what happens when you get Tozier and Kaspbrak in a field, can't say I'm surprised." Beverly placed a box of crackers on the ground. Ben snorted from the corner of the blanket.  
"Actually, i-ih-it's a l-lot le-less th-than I expected theh-em to do." Bill grinned.  
Beverly let out a loud laugh as Richie pinned Eddie's arm on the ground. He was on top of him now, Eddie struggling between Richie's thighs. (Hi- author here, just wanted to say what the fuck. Anyways back to the story.)  
Eddie let out a large squeal and weasled himself free, pushing Richie to the ground and wrapping his arms around his legs. Everyone looked then looked away, knowing this was normal but feeling like the two were pushing some boundaries. Ah, that wasn't different either. The two were always pushing boundaries. ____

____Eventually they settled down. Richie wrapped a shivering Eddie in one of the blankets and the two plopped on the grass, laying just an inch or two closer together than the other Losers were. Nobody noticed.  
"See the stars tonight Ed's? Aren't they beautiful?" Richie found himself instinctively reaching for Eddie's hands. He stopped himself from going any further, but his hand stayed where it was.  
"I told you," Eddie giggled. "don't call me Ed's." He found Richie's hands in his, which was closer then he thought it was gonna be.  
"Aw, you know you love it." Richie's face was bright red, the stars reflected in his glasses. Eddie squeezed his hand, not wanting to let go. The Losers paid no mind to them, all entranced by the stars.  
"Maybe I do," Eddie whispered to himself, captivated by the winding mass of night sky, feeling his love's hand in his, not really knowing why but feeling as if it was right. "I definitely do."_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____Mike sat alone in the library's attic, hands shaking around his cell phone. All he had to do was make the calls. Six little calls, no big deal. He had the names and numbers scrawled on a yellow legal pad, and his keypad was open.  
So why couldn't he do it? There were heaps of evidence that proved Pennywise was back. The kids, Adrian Mellon  
and the message.  
Mike still remembers the words repeated, slashed onto the bridge with scarlet, like a madman had drawn them. Mike was sure that only he and the other six with scars in their palms were the only ones who could see it, as the police had not taken note of it.  
_Come Home. _  
Pennywise wasn't dead. Far from it, he was thriving. Almost every day, Mike woke to the news of another killing. He had to put a stop to this. _They _had to put a stop to this.  
He grabbed his phone and dialed the first number. The line rang once, twice, three times, and just when he thought he wasn't going to pick up he heard a man's voice on the other end.  
"Hello?"  
"Bill Denbrough? It's Mike.  
"Mike who?"  
"Mike Hanlon… from Derry."  
Mike heard groaning on the other line. He knew what was happening. The memories were coming back. He continued.  
"You need to come home."_____ _ _ _

________Mike scratched out Bill's name. Next was Eddie Kaspbrak. Despite himself, Mike smiled. Eddie stood out boldly in his mind. How could he not? Eddie was a static character, a classic hypochondriac. Plus, he and Richie were basically conjoined at the hip, the two were inseparable. Always bickering lovingly, expressing hidden feelings they thought was unrequited. God, those two. Mike dialed Eddie's number, and heard it ring twice before being picked up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Eddie hung up hastily on Myra before picking up the other call on his phone. He would never admit it, but he was tired of her. He had been for a long time. Since he had met her, in fact. But that was the same way he felt about his mother, and he loved her, right?  
"Hello?" He took a breath while the mysterious caller answered.  
"Its me, Mike." Eddie stopped, feeling that strange sensation he had yesterday. Yet, he was still confused. He eyed his car's touchscreen warily.  
"Mike who?" He asked, but he already knew who. Before Mike could answer, Eddie was thrown as far as his seatbelt would let him as he collided with a taxi. He felt a stinging sensation in his palm, and for a brief moment was sure that a shard of glass had flown into his hand. He looked, but there was no glass embedded in his hand, only a scar reappearing, reminding him of what he had missed. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Mike hung up, hoping that whatever the hell was on the other line wasn't Eddie dying. Next was… Richie. Mike noticed the area code was in California.  
_What have you been up to, Rich? _  
He dialed the number and waited.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Richie was waiting backstage when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, saw it was a stranger's number from his hometown, then figured what the hell. Anything to take his mind off for a little while. Besides, he had a few minutes. He clicked the green "ACCEPT CALL" button.  
"Hello?" He whispered, his manager glaring at him. he moved into a corner.  
"Richie? It's Mike. From Derry."  
Richie couldn't move. He didn't know what to say. The name of his hometown, Derry, struck a nerve.  
"Mike, yeah, hi. What's up?"  
"I need you to come home. It's back."  
Mike hung up, and Richie barely made it out the side door before he lost his lunch on the ground below. His manager followed him, but Richie couldn't hear a word he was saying. The sudden wave of strong emotions and stinging pressure in his palm had made him sick. The stress from the upcoming show didn't help either.  
_Eddie _  
his mind was scared, and triumphant. Triumphant because it had solved the problem. Suddenly, Richie felt that if he looked up at the sky right now, he would see millions of stars. That was ridiculous, of course. It was broad daylight. Still, he looked up while recovering.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Richie made his way back inside, grabbing a cup of water from somebody, disposing of the cup somewhere. He changed his expression into a huge grin right as the announcer introduced him and he walked onto the stage. His manager stalled behind the curtain, concerned. Richie grabbed the microphone out of the stand and began telling the joke. He got a chuckle from the crowd, which wasn't bad. He told the next part of the joke.  
"...my name is Richie 'Trashmouth' Tozier…" suddenly, he stopped.  
_Trashmouth _  
It all flooded back to him. Earlier, he could only recount Mike, and his friends in Derry. But now, he could remember everything.  
_Eddie. _  
Richie's mind felt like one of those boards with the weird holes babies played with. Somewhere, some celestial infant deity had inserted the star peg.  
He couldn't finish the joke, his mind was too overcrowded. After a minute or so of not talking, he opened his mouth.  
"I-uh, forgot the joke."  
Richie could feel his manager's eyes boring into him as someone shouted "You suck!" God, this was _not _the place to be nostalgic about a killer clown from outer space and your childhood best friends, one of them whom you had a hidden love for. Although that _would _make a great joke. Richie walked off the stage and into the dark.  
Richie knew his manager was angry. He knew he should probably be embarrassed due to the multitude of stares being thrown at him from the crew, but he wasn't. He didn't care. He did nothing when he was given dirty glances as he made his way out of the building. He did nothing as his manager tailed him, berating Richie for his performance. All he did was move forward, ignoring him, ignoring them, ignoring Beverly Hills. None of this mattered. All that mattered was him, Derry, and Eddie. He _had _to go to Derry, not just because of the psycho killer clown, not just because of his friends, but because of Eddie. He wanted Eddie.  
He needed Eddie.  
He needed to see the stars.___________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________After the call ended with Ben, Mike glanced at who was next on the call sheet. Stan. Stan the Man. Mike smiled. Stanley, much like Eddie, stood pronounced in his mind. It wasn't easy to forget the guy, that's for sure. Stan was a good person, and Mike had no doubt that he'd be there the second the call ended. Mike didn't know if the other Losers would come, they were all busy with their lives and jobs and spouses, but he knew Stanley would. Mike dialed his number from the call sheet, and held it up to his ear as the phone buzzed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Stan grabbed his phone off the table, forgetting the missing puzzle piece. He didn't recognize the number, but accepted it anyway. He held it to his ear, hearing the man on the other line, knowing his voice. His hands began to shake, and he asked Mike if he knew the other Losers were coming. Mike said yes. He asked when he had to be there. Mike said now. They exchanged a few more parting words, and then Stan hung up. He placed the phone on the table, watching it to make sure it didn't move.  
In a trance, he stood.  
"I'm gonna go take a bath." He said to Patty.  
"Okay, dear."  
"Patty?"  
"Yes, honey?"  
Stan could barely speak.  
"I love you. I'll always love you."  
"Oh, Stan," Patty got up from her chair and walked over to Stanley.  
"What would I do without you?" She wrapped her arms around his torso and put her head between his shoulder blades. Stan sank into her touch, hoping she wouldn't let go. After a moment, she released him and got back to her work.  
"I'll let you get your bath, I love you too."  
Stan felt like crying.  
_Please, just hold me. Don't let me get my bath. Don't let me go to Derry. Just let me stay here, with you. _  
But he knew he must.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Stan stood naked in the locked bathroom, box of razors on the toilet, water in the faucet running. When was the last time he had taken a bath? Stan didn't know. He didn't care. He tried to forget where he was, what he was about to do. He tried to forget Patty, and the pain he was about to put her through. All he held onto was his mission, the thing he knew he must do, to help the others. His sacrifice would guarantee that nobody else would die. Stan turned the faucet off and stepped into the water, which was boiling. He didn't care. He eased himself in, then grabbed a razor blade from the box. Memories, faces, voices, all flashing through his mind.  
Bev, Mike, Richie, Eddie, Ben,  
Bill.  
He saw his face, clear as day. He felt the pain in his palm, looking down and seeing a scar form. It was quickly covered by a stream of blood cascading down his hand. He looked up, not feeling the stinging pain as he slit his other arm, not hearing the concerned knock on the door, not noticing any of it. All he thought of was the promise. The promise he wasn't strong enough to keep, the promise he must break.  
"I swear, Bill." He whispered softly as the light faded from his eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, cliffhanger. Screw this writer, amirite? Hope you enjoyed Chapter 2, it was crazy fun to write. (Except for Stan slitting his wrists, of course.) Like last chapter, there was a detail concerning adult Richie I wasn't too sure about. Anyone who's seen It Chapter 2 knows the scene where adult Richie gets Mike's call and is followed by someone as he vomits outside. I couldn't figure out if that someone was an assistant, manager, etc., so I just assumed it was his manager. Also, SPOILER ALERT, Stan lives. I'm not a monster. Anyways, hope you enjoyed the story, and I'll be back soon with Chapter 3!


	3. The Evolution of Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :O what's this? An EARLY update??? Yep, only 2 days after Chapter 2. I can't keep myself away from this, I just HAD to stay up until 2 am writing and editing this (wow, lots of 2's). I have no self control whatsoever. In this one, the whole fortune cookie thing doesn't happen because Stan isn't dead. The restaurant part happens, but I had to take out the monsters and the "Guess Stanley Could Not Cut It." To make room for something else *wiggles eyebrows*. After this, I'll be taking a SHORT break to collect my thoughts and make Chapter 4 a good one! Hope you enjoy Chapter 3!!

When a star gets older, it does not shrivel up like humans do. Instead, they expand. In fact, when a star is at the end of its life, it expands so much it engulfs everything near it in a fiery millisecond. An average star grows bigger into a red giant, which then ages into a planetary nebula. Same thing with massive stars. They turn into a red supergiant, which then expands into a supernova. As stars get older, they do not shrink until they dissipate altogether.  
They grow. 

Richie watched Ben and Bev grasp each other like a dying man and water. He smiled. Those two really loved each other, but they were convinced they weren't supposed to. Eventually, they noticed Richie staring at them.  
"Wow. You two look amazing, what the fuck happened to me?"  
Bev and Ben grinned blankly, until Ben spoke.  
"Hey, man." He greeted Richie amusedly.  
"Hey- Richie." He assured them, hoping they remembered.  
"Yeah!" Ben pulled him into a hug, which Richie accepted gratefully. He turned to Bev.  
"Hi!" He said happily. Richie loved seeing Bev again. It wasn't like he had a crush on her, it was just the simple fact that she was an amazing person to be around.  
"Hi!" She said with the same amount of amusement as Ben. Richie leaned down for a hug. He wanted to bask in this moment, never leaving. Here, in Beverly's arms, he felt safe. He always did. Richie understood why Ben was so eager to keep her close, but never for the same exact reason. Richie felt Beverly's hands tighten on his shoulders. He pulled away, staring at the fluorescent sign that told him the restaurant was, in fact, open, and that he must go inside to face the truth or spend his whole life lying to himself. Richie would have rather picked the lie, but went in anyways. Bev and Ben were already halfway there, and it would be weird to stay outside. So, in he went. 

The gong rang in Richie's ears, everyone snapping their heads towards the noise.  
"This meeting of the Loser's club has officially begun." Richie stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, balling them into fists.  
"Hah, look at these guys." From across the room, Eddie gestured towards the three. Giving him a knowing glance, Richie gestured towards Ben and held his hands out to indicate that this once-fat kid was now supermodel-worthy, all in a matter of nearly three decades. It seemed like something you'd read in a tabloid. He stopped when Ben turned to glance at him.  
Looking at Eddie for the first time in years, Richie hated himself for what he saw. Here was a man, the man who had outgrown the shell of youth. Yet, he still looked the part. He had the same haircut, still dressed like a dentist on his day off, still went on about hygiene and health and whatnot-based off of the impression Eddie had given when he bombarded the waitress about all of his dietary restrictions. And Richie still loved him, which he hated the most.  
In fact, he loved him even more now. It seemed as if all those years had spent forgetting Eddie and the other Losers, his love for him only grew like an unattended weed. He hated himself, because he knew it was dirty. The man he saw probably had a wife, kids even. Richie tried not to think about it, it was too painful. The kids part was easy to drop. Eddie was too much of a germaphobe to  
be able to stand having little slobber-balls running about, getting dirt and snot on everything. The wife thing, though…  
Richie wondered what she looked like. Did she have dark hair and thick glasses? For some reason, Richie hoped she did, despite hating this theoretical person. He'd just have to find out later if Mr. Clean had tried the knot without being too conspicuous.  
Richie's chance came earlier than expected.  
After doing some mildly suggestive things with a shot glass, Richie asked the million dollar question.  
"So wait Eddie, you got married?"  
"Yeah, why's it so fucking funny, dickwad?" Ouch. He was even more aggressive than back then. Richie figured he'd fix it the way he always did back then.  
"What, to like a woman?" Richie was glad when the others laughed. He wanted them to see it as a joke.  
"Fuck, you, bro." Eddie cut the air with his chopsticks.  
Richie laughed.  
"FUCK YOU!" 

Multiple drinks, laughs, and one unconscious Bill later, Eddie was drunk. (Richie had the same amount as him, but is MUCH better at holding his alcohol.) The other Losers (Except for Bill, because- well, he's unconscious.) all knew it, the waitress knew it, the people at the table next to them knew it, it really wasn't that hard to tell. Not only did Eddie's face blend in with the restaurant's scarlet interior, he was also completely out of control. He hopped around, laughing and hiccuping every ten seconds, acting way more outgoing and jovial than his usual, contained self. After the waitress placed the check along with six fortune cookies on the table that nobody opened, Eddie stumbled out into the parking lot, supported by Mike. He shoved Mike off, then tried to stand on his own. Eddie resembled a newborn giraffe as he stumbled around before crashing into Richie and sending him tumbling onto the pavement.  
"Whoa! Easy there, Ed's. Think you should've laid off the sauce." Richie hoped that Eddie couldn't feel his heart pounding. Eddie sniffled.  
"Riiiiichieeeee…" He slurred, grabbing Richie by the torso and wrapping his arms around him.  
"Immmm sooooorryyyyy…" He buried his face into Richie's chest. Okay, Richie's face was definitely red by now. He laughed nervously.  
"What are you sorry for?" Seriously, what the hell were the others doing? Why were they just letting this happen? Richie petted Eddie's hair gently, trying to be comforting.  
"I-I didn't mean all those things I saaaaiiid…. I do-don't think you're a dickwad." Eddie pushed into Richie's chest with surprising strength. Richie's head landed painfully on the ground, Eddie still on top of him. He peeked a glance at the other Losers, who were off doing their own thing, not paying attention to the scene playing out.  
"Wh- I- um…" Richie stammered, trying to regain control of his voice.  
"Then why did you say them?"  
"I… I'm sooooorrryyyyy." Eddie sat up, allowing Richie to stand on his knees. Eddie began crying again, throwing himself at Richie.  
"Hey-Hey, I'm not mad! Hey!" Richie giggled. Eddie had scrunched his hands against Richie's stomach, his ticklish spot.  
"Riiiichieeeee…" Eddie groaned again.  
"What?"  
"I love yooouuuu…"  
Richie froze, feeling as if his heart were about to jump right out of his chest.  
"I love you too, Eddie Spaghetti."  
"Noooo." Eddie whined, forehead crumpled,  
"Like… looooove love you." Eddie turned towards him, face inches from Richie's  
"W-What? I don't-" And before Richie could say anything else, Eddie kissed him. 

At first, Richie was in a moment of pure bliss. Being kissed by Eddie, it was warm and vibrant, like being touched by the stars. Richie didn't know what else was happening in that moment, but he didn't care. Here he was, connected by Eddie Kaspbrak's soft lips. Richie didn't care that this was wrong, in fact, this felt so right. So right to be here, with the man he had loved since he was a kid, just sharing this moment together. A moment none of the other Losers would ever experience. Because this was them. Richie and Eddie, nothing else.  
Then he remembered.  
Richie, suddenly pulled down to Earth with the weight of a thousand pounds, remembered. Eddie had a wife. Eddie was drunk. This was NOT the appropriate time to be kissing. The other Losers were watching. They would know. They would ALL know. Richie felt seven billion pairs of eyes on him and Eddie. He felt they all knew. They all knew his  
dirty little secret.  
This was wrong. This was so wrong. This thought finally hit Richie like a ton of bricks. The kiss only lasted for five or six seconds, but it felt like forever. A moment ago, Richie basked in that forever. But now, his brain reminded him that this was not supposed to happen. Suddenly, after standing in shock watching the whole ordeal happen, Ben pulled Eddie off of Richie.  
"Okay, let's get you into bed. I think you've had a little too much to drink." Ben said, looping his arm around Eddie's torso.  
"Are you alright, Rich?" Beverly asked, sneaking a glance at Richie while helping Ben get Eddie into Ben's car.  
"I… um…." Richie knew the others were staring at him. He knew he must be boiling red. God, why were they all staring at him? Stop, just please stop. Richie wanted to run. He wanted to disappear.  
But, he also wanted to scream how happy he was.  
A little voice in the back of his head, one he had suppressed for years, said to do so. Said to just go for it, you only live once, right? And since you're gonna be hunting a shapeshifting demon clown soon, who knows how long that one life is gonna be? Richie ignored it, which was easy considering he had done it for so long.  
Richie looked up, hoping the air would help him cool down a little. The others had stopped looking at him, and were now focused on strapping an aggressive Eddie into the backseat. He saw the stars, prevalent and unmoving, in the clear night sky. He stared, remembering all the times he and Eddie had looked up at them.  
Eddie.  
Richie looked down, ignoring the stars. They weren't there, they weren't there. They were never there, never would be. The stars were just an illusion. He felt his eyes sting, and had to close them before a river of tears cascaded down his face.  
"I… think I'm just gonna go back to the hotel. Try to catch some shut-eye." Richie started towards his car, feeling the other Loser's eyes boring into him. He knew they were concerned. He knew they thought that it would be a good idea to sit and talk about this, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to be alone, away from them. Away from Eddie. 

Richie took the long way to the hotel, hoping he'd miss the other Losers when he got back to the hotel. He pulled into the hotel's dark parking lot. It wasn't much of a hotel than it was a townhouse, with its Victorian-era architecture and lack of adequate housing. He saw the other Loser's cars parked in the spaces next to his, and wondered what would be the best way to avoid them while getting to his room. He went inside, didn't see anyone, and figured that he was in the clear for now. He continued up to his room, undisturbed, and opened the door to find Beverly sitting on his bed.  
"Beverly? What the hell?"  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I just needed to talk to you."  
"How the fuck did you even get in here?"  
"You… um… left your room key at the restaurant. Ben gave it to me."  
"That gorgeous little bastard."  
"Listen, Richie. I think we need to talk."  
"I swear to God, if it's about Eddie… it didn't mean anything, he was-"  
"It's not about Eddie." Her eyebrows creased together and she patted the space on the bed next to her.  
"Sit down."  
Richie complied, planting himself next to her.  
"So... um, I talked to Patty- Stanley Uris' wife. She said that…" Beverly's voice wavered, and she had to stop to collect herself. Richie put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  
"She said that Stanley tried to… to kill himself. He was in the bathroom, and…" Tears were streaming down her face now, and Richie took both of her shoulders in his hands, rocking her back and forth while she sobbed.  
"God, is he okay?" Richie didn't need the morbid details to figure out that Stan had done something terrible to himself. He tried to contain his fear and sadness into a ball and push it down. He needed to be strong for Beverly.  
"Yeah, he's in the hospital, he's fine, but… Richie, he…" Beverly broke down, her loud sobs muffled by Richie's shirt. She wrapped her arms around his torso, holding him tight.  
"He did it… for us. He left a note, saying he was sacrificing himself and everything." Richie could hardly believe it. Suddenly, he couldn't hold it in any longer, and began crying too. He rested his chin on Beverly's hair, not wanting her to see him cry. Stan had tried to kill himself. Stan. And he had done it for them. Richie buried his face into Beverly's hair, and the two just sat there, crying and holding each other. Stan was just too good to lose, and the thought that they almost had was too much to bear.  
"I haven't told the others yet, I don't really want to."  
"Hey, it's okay, the time will come. And if you can't do it, I will."  
"Thanks, Richie." Beverly wiped her tears with her sleeve.  
"Any time, Bev." Richie took off his glasses and began cleaning them with the end of his shirt, frigid tears drying on his face.  
"I'm really sorry… about Stan." Beverly brushed a strand of hair from her face, watching Richie's hand polish his glasses.  
"He's alive, and that's all that matters." Richie smiled briefly, giving Beverly another hug before putting his glasses back on.  
"Richie…"  
"Yes?" Richie dreaded what was about to come next.  
"I do think we need to talk about what happened tonight."  
Richie stood and walked over to his suitcase, unzipping it and unpacking his clothes.  
"No."  
"Richie, this is important."  
"Eddie was drunk, okay? It didn't mean anything." Richie's voice broke, and he sat down, head in his hands.  
"It didn't mean anything."  
"Richie…"  
"Bev…" He tried to find his voice, which was lost somewhere deep in his throat, descending into his lungs. He gave himself a moment to search for it, and found it in the bottom of his chest. "Bev… I just need to be alone." Richie's voice was broken, damaged from its journey. Beverly was silent for a long time.  
"I'll let you get some sleep." She finally piped sympathetically. "Good night." Bev walked out of his room and closed the door, leaving the key on his bed. Richie made his way to the bathroom and threw up, head rested on the seat of the toilet. Eventually, after retching a few more times, he lost all feeling in his body and slumped on the floor. He started crying quite unattractively, all hiccups and sniffles and authenticity. It was the first time he had cried in days, and it felt terrible. He hated the way the tears stung and were cold on his cheeks. He hated feeling sick, hated remembering why he was crying. He hated all of it.  
Richie didn't want to be here. He didn't want Stan in the hospital, didn't want Eddie to be drunk. None of it felt real. The memories were fake.  
The stars were fake.  
Rochie cried some more, laying on the floor of the bathroom, hoping nobody nearby heard him. Why did it have to be like this? It was all so stupid. This stupid, cruel world and the violent tricks it played. The violent tricks It played.  
"Fuck you, clown bitch." Richie muttered before finally crying himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and I'll be back soon with Chapter 4!!


	4. The Way Your Lips Move When You Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you say anything, yes I'm aware that starting a sentence with 'And' is not proper grammar. I try not to do it too much, but it's okay for when someone's talking. Anyways, enjoy Chapter 4!

"One day, I'm gonna run away from this shithole. And I'm taking you with me."   
Eddie opened his eyes, startled. He and Richie had been laying in silence for the last thirty minutes or so, the interruption almost as profound as the proposition it contained. Eddie didn't know what to make of this. Was it a declaration of love, perhaps? Was this the day that their friendship finally blossomed into something more? Eddie didn't know the answers to these questions, and so he decided to take a page out of his mother's book and play it safe.   
"What about the others?" Eddie asked uneasily. "Won't they miss us?" He wanted to go with Richie. Oh how badly he'd love to run off with him, leaving their old lives and memories behind. Who needed them, anyways? Who needed a psychotic killer clown? They'd build their own lives, together. But the thought of how his mother would react when she flipped on his bedroom switch and found only his bed, empty save for a brief note of apology, kept him grounded. He WANTED to go with Richie.  
He wanted to touch the stars.  
But he was too afraid to fly.   
"I'd like to take them too, but I'm sure if all seven of us left our parents would declare it a national emergency." Richie explained, the smallest hint of amusement peppering his wistful tone. His head bobbed closer to Eddie's as he spoke, who enjoyed the feeling of Richie's soft hair as it brushed his cheek. The two were lying on Richie's bed, bodies pointing opposite ways but heads close together. They were staring out the window, admiring the smattering of stars against the midnight sky. Eddie had the urge to lean over and kiss him, but he didn't. His heart tugged, practically forcing him to do so, but he abstained. He knew that here, in the middle of the night, whatever happened was purely in the moment. Eddie knew that if he did kiss Richie, Richie would understand. It just felt right for the setting. But he didn't.   
Eddie knew that in the morning when they woke- not remembering falling asleep- they would share a glance. A glance that said everything that needed to be said, one that explained that what happened last night was a mistake, and it didn't mean anything. The glance would be filled with guilt. Eddie, guilty for kissing his friend and making things complicated, Richie guilty for leading him on. They'd pretend like nothing ever happened, yet Eddie would still move a little faster when packing his things. He'd avert his gaze from Richie's as he took his duffel bag and pounded his way down the stairs, giving Richie's mother a smile before waiting for his mom by the front door, ignoring the bacon sizzling on the stove. Of course, poor Maggie didn't know that he had kissed her son the night before, and that would send him into a deeper pool of shame. Eddie knew this would happen, and so in order to give his lips something to do to distract them from Richie's, he parted them and asked a question:  
"Why me?"

Eddie opened his room's door and stepped into the hall, recoiling from the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows. His head pounded, and he closed his eyes, leaning on the wall for support. Nobody else was up yet, no surprise to Eddie. No matter how strong of a hangover he had, he always woke up early. He made his way downstairs, past the bar, and into the dining area to find Richie sitting alone at a table. Startled by his presence, Eddie jumped back a little. Richie looked up from the salt shaker he had been playing with, but after seeing it was Eddie got back to balancing the glass capsule on its edge.   
"What are you doing here?" Eddie asked a little too rudely.  
"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. You?"   
"I always wake up this early." Eddie grabbed the chair at the table near Richie and sat down.  
"Ah, that's right. I remember when we had sleepovers and you'd always be running around at like, 6 am." Richie's mouth thinned in a sad attempt at a smile. Eddie did the same, meeting his point of focus at the salt shaker.  
"So do they bring us food or are we supposed to go somewhere?" Eddie watched as Richie's finger tipped over the shaker and dusted the table with salt.  
"Well, I'm assuming since they have a dining area, they have food. Sorta comes as a whole set, y'know?"   
"Maybe we missed it."  
"At 6 in the morning?"  
"Maybe we're early."   
"Well, most hotels serve breakfast at 6."  
"How would you know, Mr. Hotel Conneusair?"  
"Believe it or not, being a famous comedian gets you out of the house."  
"Oh- right." Eddie chuffed, embarrassed. "I forgot you told jokes about my mom for a living."   
"Trust me, they eat it up. The whole world knows how terrible Eddie Kaspbrak's mom's underwear smells."  
"Shut the fuck up."   
Richie laughed.   
"That's like the tenth time you've said fuck."  
"When were the other nine times?"  
"Last night."  
"Oh…" Eddie felt as if he had been hit by a brick. Last night…   
Richie was silent as he reminisced the events of last night, as much as he didn't want to.   
The two sat like that for a while, staring at the laces of their shoes and not talking.   
"Listen… about last night, I'm really sorry. I was drunk, and- if I made you uncomfortable, I'm really sorry."  
Richie was still looking down when he opened his mouth.  
"You said you loved me."   
"Rich, I was drunk. There was a lot of shit I said."  
"So it wasn't true?"   
Eddie hesitated, wondering what would happen if he didn't say no.  
"...No."   
Richie didn't say a word as he got up and left a speechless Eddie in the dining area.   
"Where are you going, Rich?"  
"Sorry, I just remembered I have something I need to do. I wasn't that hungry anyways."   
He dashed out of the dining area with Eddie staring after him. Eddie cursed himself. Obviously he had made Richie very uncomfortable. What was he thinking? Getting drunk and saying those things. And on top of all that, he kissed Richie?! Eddie felt his face grow red just thinking about it. The other Losers knew, too. They SAW them kiss. Eddie covered his face with his hands. How could he be so stupid?! He kissed his best friend. He kissed his… his…   
Eddie stopped.   
Best friend? That didn't feel right. No, it definitely wasn't right. He felt a familiar sensation creeping through his mind, like he was trying to remember something. Best friend was the right title, but it didn't FEEL right.   
Eddie thought about the kiss with Richie. His heart pounded. Why was it doing that? The episode replayed in his head. He felt the soft warmth of Richie's lips. The self-assuredness of his hands gripped on Richie's shoulders. It all felt so…   
Right.   
It felt easier than kissing Myra, and she was his wife. It felt easier than kissing the few girls he had dated in college. It felt easier than using his inhaler.  
And it wasn't just that it was easy, or right. He loved it. He loved Richie's heat, his face, his personality (although he'd NEVER admit it). He loved EVERYTHING about Richie Tozier.   
_Oh my god, _Eddie thought.  
 _I'm in love with my best friend. _____

____Richie crumpled to the floor, defeated. He was so dumb, how could he go asking questions like that? "So it wasn't true?" Of course it wasn't true! Eddie was drunk! He said he didn't mean it! So why couldn't Richie let it be? Why couldn't he just forget the whole damn thing like he had forgotten Eddie for 27 years?  
Richie felt a pang and slid his head down the wall. Had it really been 27 years? Damn. He hated himself for forgetting Eddie, despite knowing that he had utterly no control over it. He hated that he had forgotten the other Losers. Bev and Stan especially. Maybe if he had tried a little harder, or stayed in Derry, none of this would've-  
There it was again. That familiar feeling from when he was a kid. The self-loathing, the feeling that he could've done more, or pushed it down.   
Pushed it down.  
Pushed him down.  
"I'm so sorry, Eddie." Richie said, still curled up against the wall._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am realizing that this fic gets less and less canon the more I write. On one hand, I'm kind of upset because I really wanted to stick close to canon. But on the other hand, I kind of like drifting away from canon-ness, just a bit. I mean Eddie and Stan survive, so it's not TOO canon in the first place! Also, I took a much longer break than expected because I got busy with school and have just been feeling really BLAH lately. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 4, and I'll be back soon with Chapter 5!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this series! I made it a bit shorter than I'd like it to be, but I guess since it's just the exposition it's allowed to be short haha 😅. Also I couldn't find a clear answer to where adult Richie lived, so I assumed it was California, as that's where he lives in the book.  
> Also, I still dont know whether Stan and Eddie will survive, I'm leaning towards both of them surviving, but that may change in the future, I'm trying to stick to what's canon as much as possible, but yeah I most likely will have both of them survive. Anyways, thank you for reading, and I'll update soon!


End file.
